The Failing
by Aggie Escott
Summary: Yes, you've guessed it - Spence in trouble again! Can't seen to write anything else! There will be a lot of Aaron too! LOL There might be just a hint of slash this time! R&R please!
1. Late

The Failing

Chapter 1

A sound outside in the street woke Spencer Reid that Tuesday morning. He turned over in his bed and reached for his watch. He held the watch right up to his face, squinting in the darkness.

Eight thirty.

"Oh no!" He tried to get out of bed quickly, and got his leg caught in the quilt and fell on his face.

"Great start!" he muttered and he disentangled himself.

Her had a bit of a headache, so he grabbed his glasses, scooped up his clothes and ran for the shower.

The fastest shower on record! He didn't have time to dry his hair, so it would probably go all fluffy. And Morgan would say something about it. He pressed his lips together in resignation. He thought he ought to be over that by now, but Morgan still managed to get to him.

He rubbed his hair in a towel. He got his gun and put it in his messenger bag, and checked he had his ID. Biting on his bottom lip, he quickly got dressed, and ran downstairs.

Fumbling with his shirt buttons, left his building and went to his car.

"Keys! Keys! Keys!" He rummaged in his bag, to no avail. He tipped the contents of his bag onto the car park floor.

Dammit! He had left them in the apartment. He threw his things back in the bag, and ran up stairs again; promising himself he would get a decent clock.

Running back down, he got out his mobile and called Hotch.

"Aaron, I'm on my way in now………..yes I know, I'm sorry…………twenty minutes."

He snapped his mobile shut and unlocked the car. He threw his bag across onto the passenger seat. Sliding into his seat, he put the key in the ignition, and pulled the door shut.

Something cold on his neck. Spencer froze. A hand took hold of his hair and pulled his head back against the head rest.

Spencer lifted his hands. "Ok, w-what do you want me to d-do?"

The blade moved round to the front of his neck. Spencer pressed back into the seat, and the blade pressed into his neck. Very lightly, the blade cut into his skin. He tried to cry out, when the hand tugged at his hair viciously. He felt his blood run down onto his shirt collar.

The voice said, "Drive to work as you usually do, and I won't need to cut you again."

……………………………………………………………………………………………...

"Is Reid here yet?" Aaron was getting concerned. Spencer had said twenty minutes, it was now thirty five. The drive shouldn't take that long.

He wanted to debrief the team after the last case, see what they had leaned, how the case had helped them grow as profilers. They couldn't start without Reid.

"He's not answering his cell." said JJ.

"He may be driving." offered Prentiss.

"He wouldn't still be driving." Aaron opened the door to Garcia's bunker. "Garcia, can you quickly check if there have been any accidents or hold ups between here and Reid's building this morning please."

"Why? Isn't he here yet?" Garcia looked concerned. "He was fine last night, Sir…..no, there aren't any holdups between here and his building."

"Someone check to see if his car is here yet." Aaron said.

"I'll go." Prentiss said.

Aaron paced the round table room, getting more worried by the minute.

Spencer had been through so much during his time at the BAU, starting when he had been held and tortured by Henkle. He and Spencer had built a special relationship, forged out of love and concern for each other.

Now Haley had made it clear that she wasn't coming back, Aaron had a hole in his life that Spencer was filling. Spencer seemed willing to do that, dividing his time between Aaron and Garcia.

Aaron felt, rightly or wrongly, that he had to watch out for him.

He had wanted Spence to move in with him permanently, and they had talked about it. But Spence had hung on to his freedom, and didn't want to give up his place.

Even so, they had spent many nights together at Aaron's place, and their friendship was becoming so much more now.

So where the hell was he?

His mobile rang. It was Prentiss.

"Get down here, Sir." she said. "I've found Reid's car."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Aaron could see something was wrong as soon as he got out of the lift. As he hurried across the underground car park, he noted that although Spencer's car was parked in its usual place, it was at an angle, and the driver's door was open.

Then he saw the blood.

There was blood spray across the windscreen, and the door. The blood was running down the window onto the dash. There was a pool of blood in the foot well. Spencer's glasses were twisted and broken on the floor, and there was hair and blood on the head rest. There was blood on the ground by the open door.

"Arterial spray." said Prentiss. "There is a trail of blood leading this way."

The blood trail ended abruptly two spaces down.

"There are shoe prints in the blood."

"He's been put in another vehicle and driven away." said Aaron. "Get a CSU down here!"

"I've called them already, sir."

Aaron reached in the car and retrieved Spencer's messenger bag.

"His gun is in here." said Aaron. "He was late, so he didn't put it on his belt." He put the bag back on the seat.

Morgan and JJ came out of the lift, and ran across to them.

"What's happening?" asked Morgan. "Where's…….Oh my god!"

"Someone needs to tell Garcia." said JJ, going back to the lift.

"Morgan, wait here until the CSU gets here, Prentiss, get the security tapes, meet in the round table room."

Aaron was shaking. The only was he could handle this was to take control and detach himself. But he wasn't sure that he would be able to stay detached for long.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Garcia was sick with fear. She had run down to the car park as soon as JJ told her, but she wasn't prepared for the shock of all the blood.

Could anyone survive that amount of blood loss? Could Spencer?

When Spencer had finally been released from hospital after being on life support for three weeks, they had discussed leaving the BAU. But in the end, they had both decided to stay. Spencer had said he couldn't leave Aaron, and Garcia had said she needed to stay near Spence.

White faced and shaking with worry, she sat in the round table room with the others.

JJ was showing them the CCTV tapes.

They watched Spencer's car entering the car park.

Then they watched in horror as Spencer's door opened, and he fell sideways onto the ground. He had both hands at his throat.

Someone got out of the back of Spencer's car.

They watched as Spencer was dragged to another car, parked nearby.

He wasn't fighting.

As he was lying next to the second car, the UnSub placed some kind of dressing on his neck.

Then the UnSub opened the boot, lifted Spencer up, and dropped him in.

The boot was slammed shut, and the UnSub got in the car and drove away.

"The registration plates had been covered, and the UnSub was wearing a mask." said JJ.

"So we have nothing." said Morgan angrily. "Who the hell would do this to Reid?"

"Let's hope the CSU come up with something." said Aaron quietly, his calm belying the turmoil me felt inside.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

It was dark where Spencer woke up. He felt weak and light headed, and his neck hurt. He was glad to find that he wasn't restrained.

He felt panicky.

Dark, confined, with a near fatal neck wound.

He made an effort to control his breathing.

Think, Reid! Use your brain!

He was lying on plastic sheeting, in the boot of a car. He could feel that his blood had pooled onto the plastic.

He felt his neck, and discovered the bandage. It felt as if there was a lot of blood on it.

Come on, Reid. Remember…….

There had been someone in his car.

He remembered the knife, the feeling when it sliced across his throat.

He remembered seeing the spray hit the window.

And now he was here.

Breathe…breathe…don't lose control.

He curled up in a foetal position on the plastic, in his blood pool, and concentrated on staying alive


	2. Walking

_Mark Twain__ wrote __Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not absence of fear._

Chapter 2 

Walking

CSU found a hair. It wasn't Spencer's, Garcia's or Aaron's.

No hits though.

No prints.

No fibres.

Nothing.

Aaron and Morgan went to Spencer's apartment. Aaron used his own key.

Spencer had lined the main room of his apartment with bookshelves. Aaron was hesitant to call it a living room. He couldn't imagine living in it. But Spencer liked it, and spent most of his time in here, sitting on the only chair, a very old battered leather one, the only furniture in the room apart from an equally old battered desk.

There was a book open on the desk. Aaron picked it up.

"'The Psychology of Blackmail'" read Aaron. He looked at the page Spencer had been reading. Morgan looked over his shoulder.

The chapter was about how to respond to extortion.

"Hey, do you think Reid was mixed up in something?" said Morgan.

"Let's not jump to conclusions, Morgan." answered Aaron, desperately trying to take his own advice. "Keep looking. If he was, there is sure to be some evidence about."

Aaron started going through the desk. He checked the letters and papers that Spencer had left.

There was nothing in the desk to indicate what had happened.

He looked at the bookshelves. He was going to have to check every book.

Aaron hated doing this. This was Spencer's world. He had been in this room often, he had read some of Spencer's books. But this was different. He felt that he was intruding on Spencer's privacy.

But this was urgent. They had to find him. He was obviously badly injured, he could even be dead. Aaron's stomach clenched at the thought.

Why wouldn't Spencer move in with him? He would have everything he wanted; a library, whatever.

As long as Aaron could keep an eye on him.

This should never have been allowed to happen.

When he came back, he would try to persuade him again.

Now, to search the books.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Spencer lay very still in the darkness. He had no idea how long he had been there. Darkness seemed to deprive Spencer of any means of checking the passage of time. His body was cramped and the cut to his neck was hurting.

Two cuts. He could remember a shallow cut when he was still outside his apartment. He must have cut him again. The arterial spray was later. There was too much blood around him for it to just be the first cut.

His hand pressed the sodden bandage at his throat. It was still bleeding. He felt around the space to see if he could find something else to press against his neck.

There was nothing. With difficulty, he managed to get his shirt off. He folded it the best he could, and held it to his neck. Using the sleeves, he tied it as tight as he dare. He needed to stop or even slow down the blood loss.

They hadn't meant to kill him, or he would be dead now.

He tried to calculate how long it would be before he bled out. His brain wouldn't work in these conditions. He was using all his mental power to keep control of himself.

The blood on the plastic was congealing around him. The metallic smell of his own blood was making him feel sick.

The air was foul, engine fumes were leaking into the space where he was huddled.

He vomited. Unable to move, his stomach was in agony. Each time his body heaved, his neck wound throbbed. He knew he was crying, tears adding to the mess around him.

_Control, Spence. Keep control. Otherwise you have no chance._

He felt wretched. He needed to stretch. His limbs were shaking and jerking. He was afraid he was going to have a convulsion.

He rocked himself, trying to gain comfort from rhythmic movements. It helped. His arms and legs stopped twitching, and he curled up again.

The car stopped. He closed his eyes, ready for when the boot opened.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Aaron and Morgan were checking the books. Aaron took one out at a time, shook it, flicked through the pages, then replaced it. Morgan started at the opposite end of the room. He too was being careful. They both knew that these were important to Spence.

Morgan had found nothing out of the ordinary in the bedroom – nothing out of the ordinary for Spencer, anyway.

But if Spencer was being blackmailed, there had to be something.

"Why on earth didn't he tell us?" Morgan was really angry, and Aaron admired the way he hadn't hit anything. "We're his friends. We are supposed to help each other!"

Aaron noticed the way Morgan was clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Ok, Morgan. I think it's time to take a break. Sit down and have a drink."

"I'm not stopping until we find him."

Aaron didn't stop either.

Fourth row down, fourth book along.

Aaron found it.

Aaron shook the book, and a sheet of printed paper fluttered to the floor.

He got off the step ladder and picked it up. He unfolded it and took it to Spencer's desk.

_You didnt collect the package you know what we said would happen if you did not do as you were told_

They read through the note trying to get some clue as to who had sent it. Did Reid know where it was from?

Aaron put the letter in an evidence bag.

"Package? What the hell's going on?" Morgan shouted. "What was the kid into?"

"Keep looking. There may be more."

Aaron was very worried now. Whatever Spencer was in to, it was something he couldn't share with his closest friends.

Aaron went back to the books. There had to be more evidence.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The boot of the car opened. The man who looked in had taken his mask off.

That was never a good sign.

"Get out!"

Spencer tried to move, but he was too stiff.

"I c-can't move." He looked up with huge frightened eyes.

"Well I sure as hell am not going to touch you." he sneered.

He pulled both ends of the plastic sheet, and wrapped it around Spencer. Then he lifted him out of the car boot and dropped him onto the road.

Spencer screamed in pain as he hit the floor. He was still pressing on the slit in his neck.

"Get up now!"

Spencer pushed the plastic sheet out of the way and staggered to his feet. He held his head down, and his hair fell in his face. For the first time he could see how much blood there was in the sheet. He held his shirt tightly.

His legs were shaking after being cramped for so long. He was weak and dizzy from fear and probably blood loss. The light was hurting his eyes. He could feel himself swaying.

Pick up the sheet and put it in the boot."

Spencer rolled it up the best he could and put it back.

"Get moving!"

The man pushed him in the back. Spencer stumbled onto his knees.

He struggled back up, and looked around.

"Where are we going?"

"Shut up and move!"

Spencer started to walk. He couldn't see any buildings. They appeared to be in a desert. The ground was dry and sandy, the vegetation was sparse.

Spencer saw the sun moving across the sky. There were no clouds to give relief

He could feel it burning his back

"I'm going to be sick." Spencer went down on his knees and vomited. His body heaved, yet his stomach was empty now.

"Hurts…" He looked up at his captor. "Please, can I have a drink?"

He was pulled to his feet again.

"Walk."

Spencer walked.

After a long time, walking into the desert away from the road, his captor stopped and took a drink from a flask he was carrying.

Spencer looked at the water running down his chin and dripping onto the sand.

He reached out his hand. "Please…."

He smacked Spencer's hand away.

He replaced the lid and pushed Spencer again.

"Move."

Spencer stumbled on.

"P-please, I'm going to faint." He fell to his knees and rolled onto his side. The captor pulled him up by the hair.

Spencer tried to stand, but when the captor let go of his hair he just fell again.

"Can't….."

He was turned onto his back with a kick.

Spencer's skin was hot and burning. Dried blood caked in his hair, his hand still clutching at the blood soaked shirt. His eyes fluttered open.

"I c-can't walk anymore." he whispered. "I n-need a drink…..please l-let me have a drink."

The captor tipped water onto Spencer's lips. He sucked at the precious liquid before the sun could snatch it away.

"So now get up."

Spencer turned onto his front and got onto his hands and knees.

"Help me?"

He reached up his hand. The man pulled him to his feet.

"Walk!"

Spencer took two faltering steps and fainted. This time the kick didn't waken him.


	3. The Fear

**A/N This Spencer is a season 3 Spencer – 2****nd**** Life – (He was well cute in that epi!)**

Chapter 3

"Damn you!" yelled the captor, looking down at Spencer lying face down in the sand. "You are pathetic!"

He got hold of Spencer's feet and began dragging him.

About a hundred yards further on there was a concrete bunker. He dragged Spencer over to the entrance and pushed him in.

Only about two foot of the wall was visible above ground. Most of it was under ground. Spencer fell down the concrete steps that led to the floor of the bunker. The captor descended the steps after him, and lit an oil lamp.

Spencer was lying still where he fell. The captor lifted him and sat him on a chair, and strapped him round the chest to keep him upright. Spencer moaned softly as the strap tightened around his body, but he didn't open his eyes or attempt to resist.

The captor lifted Spencer's head, and took the shirt and pad off his neck.

The wound had stopped bleeding now, but the edges of the wound were pulling apart.

On a table against the far wall was a roll of duct tape. He tore an eight inch strip and stuck it on the wound, holding the edges together. He threw the shirt and bloody pad under the table He would just have to make sure it didn't start bleeding again.

They wouldn't be very pleased if he died before they got here.

He'd taken a chance with the throat cutting. He wasn't sure if he could do it – cut a throat and not kill. He had been reprimanded before about his 'experiments'.

He took his flask and tilted Spencer's head back. He tipped some water into Spencer's mouth.

Spencer swallowed the water and licked the drops off his lips. He gave him a little more, then closed the flask.

Spencer's head dropped back down, his hair covering his face.

The captor went outside to call the others.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Aaron and Morgan found two more letters.

Both printed on the same kind of paper, printed on the same machine.

They were being projected on the wall in the conference room.

_in settlement of our services to you there is now additional payment you will b told how to deliver this payment in due course do not forget your life is worth little to us if you do not pay _

_you will collect package from dale motel room5 tonight 11 delivery address will be given to you_

"Morgan and Prentiss, get round to the motel. I want a list of all occupiers of room 5 and the adjoining rooms over the last two months. We have no idea how old this note is."

"Hotch, do you think it's drugs?" said Prentiss. "Has Reid been….."

"Just get to the motel." snapped Aaron.

Aaron knew that Spencer had once had a problem with drugs, since the Henkle episode. He had come to Aaron for help, and Aaron had been with him every step of the way as he weaned himself off.

Aaron knew he had a supplier for that first few awful weeks. He knew he was getting the drugs from somewhere, but Spencer never told him who the supplier was. Now he wished he had pushed him a little harder.

The others had suspected, but it was never common knowledge. Aaron was determined that it wouldn't become so.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The captor sat opposite Spencer and watched him. Every few minutes he glanced at his watch. He just wanted payment, and then he was out of there. It had been too risky taking a Fed from the car park. Too many things could have gone wrong. But he was pleased with the job. He smiled to himself, thinking of how the money was going to pay for his new life in Brazil. Women…. beaches….ahhh what a life it was going to be!

He heard a car in the distance. He went over to Spencer and shook him.

"Wake up!"

Spencer raised his head and opened his eyes slightly.

He felt very sick, and his skin was clammy.

The blood and mess on his skin and in his hair had dried. It was very hot in the bunker. But the captor noticed that Spencer's skin was cold.

"N-need water….please…."

"You can ask the others. They're here now." he said, as they heard the sound of a car pull up outside.

At that moment three men entered the bunker and came down the steps.

"Well, here he is. So where's my money?"

The man in front put his hand inside his suit jacket. "Here."

Before he could blink, the bullet cut a neat hole in the captor's forehead, and he fell, face down on the dirt floor.

Spencer tried to raise his head at the sound of the gunfire. He saw his captor lying in the dirt, the blood pool growing around his head. He blinked, trying to focus. His strength was failing him. His head fell forwards again.

"Get rid of it. Outside."

The other two picked up the body without a word and dragged it up the steps.

The suit went and stood in front of Spencer.

He pulled Spencer's head up.

"Open your eyes, filth!"

Spencer opened his eyes and looked up at the man in front of him.

"Remember me?"

Spencer remembered.

"I will not d-do your dirty work f-for you."

The Suit slapped Spencer hard across the mouth. Spencer tasted blood as the Suit's ring tore his lip.

Spencer tried to look defiant, but fear was in his eyes.

"I will not d-deliver drugs for you."

The Suit bent down and put his face close to Spencer's.

"You have made that clear, but that was the deal – you work for us."

Spencer was having difficulty keeping awake. His eyes were rolling, and he felt dizzy.

"Please…..I n-need water…."

"Are you going to work for us then?" the Suit straightened up.

"No!"

"Is that your final word?"

Spencer didn't answer. The Suit turned to the other two who had returned, and were leaning against the wall.

"I think it's time to get the other one and start persuading."

The two left, mounting the steps two at a time in their eagerness to get out.

"What are you going to do?" Spencer was no longer trying to look defiant. His eyes showed pure terror.

"You will find out soon enough, boy." He went to the table and picked up the flask. There was still a little water in it. He held it to Spencer's lips. "Don't want you dying just yet."

The Suit smiled an easy smile. When Spencer had finished the water, he produced some plastic cuffs. He removed Spencer's shoes and tied his ankles to the chair legs. Then he secured Spencer's wrists behind his back.

He pulled Spencer's head back by his hair. "See you tomorrow, filth." He roughly pushed his head back down.

"W-w-where are you going?"

"You didn't actually expect me to spend the night down here in this disgusting stinking hole, did you?"

He bent down and retrieved Spencer's bloody shirt from under the table. "And just in case you feel the need to call out……."

He tore the sleeve off the shirt and tied it around Spencer's mouth. He felt his cut lips crushed against his teeth. His eyes wide with fear, he struggled against the gag, but it was useless.

The Suit turned out the lamp and left.

The darkness was absolute. Spencer was so frightened thought he would be sick.

He couldn't be sick! He would choke, with the gag in place.

He fought to free himself, but it was more panic than careful thought. He could hear the sounds of the desert coming to life; creatures that would find him in the dark

He wanted to scream but the gag was too tight. Tears of frustration and sheer terror ran down his cheeks. He desperately tried to regain some control, but anxiety got the better of him.

He struggled and fought until he was exhausted, but he was too afraid to sleep. In his distress he whimpered and cried.

His mind called out for help.

"Please, Aaron……find me……I need you…."


	4. Aaron

Chapter 4

Aaron 

Aaron pulled up outside his house. Black windows stared down at him, the emptiness loudly announcing its presence. Since Haley had gone, it was no longer home, just empty rooms furnished with memories and heartbreak.

The images of happy times with his family flooded over him like the incoming tide, unstoppable and relentless. He wiped his eyes, and wondered how long it would be before this didn't happen every time he came back here.

It seemed nowadays that home was the BAU. Sleeping at his desk had become the norm, and then there were the nights he spent with Spence.

Thinking of Spence reminded him of the blood in the car, and fear injected itself into the tide of sadness that was threatening to overwhelm him.

He had stopped by for a change of clothes. He had slept in these at his desk, and his suit was crumpled, and he felt uncomfortable.

With a sigh, he got out of the car and went to the front door. It was a dark night, the street lights didn't shine this far. He pushed the key home.

It was then he felt something cold and hard on his neck.

He froze.

His first thoughts were of Spence. Is this what had happened to him?

He raised his hands slowly.

"What do you want? My money is in my car."

"We don't want your money." the voice said in the darkness.

Aaron began to turn to face his attacker, but a club to the back of his head smashed his face against the door.

Bleeding from his nose and mouth, and the back of his head, Aaron slumped to the floor.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Aaron woke up lying on the floor in the back of a car. He made an attempt to raise his head, but it made him dizzy. He groaned as he closed his eyes again, and rested his head back on the floor.

He felt a foot press down on his neck.

"Keep down." a voice warned him.

"Where are you taking me?" The foot pressed harder.

Aaron struggled to get up, but was stopped abruptly by a kick in the mouth. He put a hand to his mouth and felt more blood.

Aaron grabbed the foot that was on his neck and wrenched it sideways. Climbing up onto his knees, he aimed a punch at the man's nose. The man tried to avoid the punch, but it caught him on the side of his face. He grabbed Aaron round the throat and squeezed. Aaron pulled at the hands that were choking the life out of him. Dimly, as if from a long way off, he heard a voice saying not to kill him. His eyes were starting to lose their focus, his hands losing strength. They felt as if they belonged to someone else as he desperately tried to release himself.

He was vaguely aware of the car stopping and someone opening the door next to him.

Then the hands tightening around his throat were torn away. Aaron collapsed into the foot well, breathing deeply, trying not to pass out.

Two men were arguing. He felt plastic cuff being put on his wrists and ankles. He moaned as the foot was pressed back down onto his bruised neck. "When I say keep down, you keep down." As if to emphasize the order, he twisted his foot, making Aaron cry out in pain.

The car started up again.

Aaron lay still on the floor, his chance to overpower the man sitting above him now gone.

Were they taking him to Spencer? He hoped so, then at least he would be able to see if he was all right.

_Oh Spence….what are you involved in?_...

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Spencer was rocking backwards and forwards on the chair crying a soft keening sound. All sense had left him. He was unable to think or plan.

His fear was absolute.

The darkness absorbed him like a thick void full of creatures that were touching him and stinging him. His dried blood was attracting night insects.

Spencer was losing it. He knew he was, but terror and exhaustion was taking over, and he couldn't stop it.

Rocking….rocking….soft rhythmic crying…

Something crawled over his foot. The whimpering grew to a muffled scream as he jerked whatever it was off his foot.

He knew there were things feeding on the blood in his hair, he could feel them moving about, he could hear them. Terrified to shake them off, he carried on rocking.

The bare skin of his back was being bitten by unknown insects. He tried to ignore it, and concentrate on rocking……backwards and forwards…..he let the darkness hold him.

_Aaron….I need you with me…_.

_He imagined Aaron's arms around him, felt his gentle kisses, holding him, keeping him safe._

_Garcie, sweet Garcie, he listened to her laugh, felt her caress, _

It was good feeling the people who loved him being there.

But they weren't there. He was totally alone in the blackness, losing his mind to anxiety and fear.

He started to cry. Tears streamed down his cheeks soaking the gag in his mouth.

Things running across the floor, touching him.

His whimpering grew louder as his senses left him.

He rocked and cried and whimpered into the night.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The car stopped again and the two men got out. Aaron was dragged out of the car and dropped.

He lay on his side, listening.

He could hear someone crying, a desperate frightened cry.

Aaron knew it was Spencer. He was close by.

The sun was just rising, Aaron could make out a bunker ahead. The two men pulled him towards a hole in the concrete..

They dropped him down by the entrance, and kicked him through the hole and down the steps.

The fall was unexpected. Aaron had no way to save himself as he crashed down the steps into the darkness of the bunker. He hit his head on the steps, and lay on the dirt floor, stunned and shocked. He lay still, trying to get his breath back.

The two men didn't follow him down the steps. He thought he heard the car doors shut, but it did not drive away. They were going to spend the rest of the night in the car.

He rolled onto his back and listened. Spencer was here, Aaron could hear his disturbed keening, the creak of the chair as he rocked.

"Spence…..Spencer, its Aaron. I'm here Spence!"

There was no change to the sound. Aaron tried to sit up. Every move made his head swim. His arms hurt where he had been pushed down the steps, and moving was painful. But he needed to get to Spencer.

"I'm coming to find you, Spence."

Aaron rolled over, and got onto his knees. He shuffled across towards where the sounds were coming from.

At last he reached Spencer. He brushed his face against Spencer's.

Spencer stopped rocking. Aaron had found him.

New tears sprang from his eyes as pressed his face against Aarons. Aaron rested his head on Spencer's shoulder and kissed his neck.

"I'm here, Spence. You are not alone now. Don't be frightened."

Spencer pressed against Aaron, the whimpering grew softer. The things on his skin and in his hair didn't matter now.

"Its ok, Spence…. it will be light soon….its ok…."


	5. Morning Light

Chapter 5

Morning Light 

As it became lighter, Aaron was able to look at Spencer. He noted the duct tape on his neck, and his stomach clenched. He thought back to the arterial spray in Spencer's car. The bastard had cut his throat. Aaron couldn't imagine the fear that must have evoked. He tried to pull the gag off but he couldn't. It was too tight, and he couldn't use his hands. Spencer's skin was cold and clammy, and his bare skin was spotted with blood where he had been bitten. There was a lot of dried blood from his cut neck and his lip was split. Aaron began to pull away from him, but Spencer started to panic.

"It's ok, Spence. I'm not going any where." Aaron knelt in front of him. "Open your eyes for me."

Spencer lifted his head and his eyes fluttered open.

"Oh, Spence, what have you got yourself into?"

Aaron looked round for some water for Spencer, but he couldn't see any.

"Spence, I'm going to go outside to ask for some water."

As he moved away, Spencer whimpered softly.

"I'm only going to the top of the steps, Spence. I can still see you."

Spencer's eyes were wide open now, watching Aaron as he struggled up the steps. Aaron pulled himself painfully towards the entrance. He stopped at the top to get his breath back. Then he turned and knelt on the top step.

The two in the car saw him. One got out of the car, and walked towards him.

"Where do you think you're going?" he said, his knife flashing in the dawn light.

"My friend needs water." said Aaron. "He will die without it."

The Boss'll be back soon. You can ask him." he grinned nastily. "We'll see what he says!"

He put his foot onto Aaron's chest and pushed.

Aaron fell backwards down the steps. He landed heavily on his back and didn't move. Spencer's eyes were huge and tear filled with distress.

He saw Aaron fall, heard the crack as his head hit the step.

He wanted to be with Aaron. but he couldn't even call to him.

Spencer started rocking and whimpering again

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The Boss drove his 4x4 across the desert in the rising sun. The rays picked out the silvery leaves of the desert vegetation, and crystals in the sand flashed and sparkled. It was just the kind of morning he loved, especially when he had such enjoyable work to do.

He smiled and adjusted his designer sunglasses. This was going to be a good day.

He drew his car up next to the other. The two were sitting on the sand drinking coffee and playing cards.

"Any trouble?"

"No Sir," one of them grinned. "We had to knock him around a bit, but he got the message."

"Right. Now the work starts. Bring the box out of the boot, and follow me down."

The Boss carefully descended the steps, and stepped over Aaron, who was lying silently at the bottom.

He lit the lamp and turned to Spencer.

Spencer looked almost catatonic. His eyes were wide and he was rocking and moaning. The Boss pulled his head forward and undid the gag. It had stiffened where blood had dried on it through the night. Spencer whimpered in pain as the Boss pulled it out of his mouth.

The others carried the box down the steps and put it on the floor.

"Give him some water." ordered the Boss. One of the men took a bottle out of the box and held it up so that Spencer could see it. Then he removed the top and slowly fed it to him.

Spencer coughed and licked his dry cracked lops, and leaned forward for some more.

"No more yet." smirked the man. "We have something for you to see first."

"Aaron?" he looked at him in fear. He turned to the Boss. "He d-didn't know anything ab-bout this!" Spencer looked at Aaron lying at the base of the steps. He pulled forwards on the chair. "What are you d-doing to him? This has n-nothing to d-do with him?"

He was ignored, as the two men lifted Aaron onto his feet and held him against the wall. Spencer noticed metal rings embedded on the wall of the bunker. Aaron's hands were released from the plastic cuffs, and attached to the rings with the duct tape. The rings were at waist level, and were likely there for attaching weaponry to, when the bunker was used in army maneuvers.

Aaron's face was a mess; Spencer could see that he had blood in his hair and on the collar of his shirt. His clothes were torn and dirty.

One of the men held him up while the other woke him. They held Aaron's mouth open and poured water into his mouth. Aaron choked and coughed, his eyes opened.

He forced himself to stand upright, a show of defiance, but it was agonizing, his back scraped and bruised from the fall, his head ached, and he wasn't seeing very well.

His mind flashed back to the time that he had been blinded temporarily after the jet had crashed. The fear of that happening again overwhelmed him suddenly, and he had to fight it. He needed all his senses working to cope with what was happening to him and Spence.

He leaned on the wall and waited. He looked over at Spencer. He looked so frightened.

"I am s-so sorry, Aaron. This is all m-my fault." Spencer's breaths came in halting sobs. "I wanted to k-keep you out of this. That is why I didn't s-say anything to anyone."

"I would've….." Aaron's words were cut off by a vicious punch to the face. He felt his nose crack and his mouth fill with blood.

He spat blood onto the floor.

The Boss was watching from the steps. Now he approached Spencer, and stooped down to look into his face.

"Have you changed your mind, boy?"

"Y-yes. I'll do it." Spencer stammered. "Just let Aaron go."

Spencer cried at the thought of dragging Aaron into this. He had tried so hard to keep him out of it, and he had failed. Failed badly. He called to Aaron over the shoulder of the Boss.

"Aaron. I am going to get you out of this."

The Boss held Spencer's face tightly, and turned him to face him. "But first, the punishment."

"B-but I said I will do it! Whatever you want, I will d-do. Just let Aaron g-go!"

"But you have put us to a lot of unnecessary trouble, boy. You have cost us money. So you have to be punished."

The Boss held out his hand and one of his men gave him a syringe with a pale liquid in it. He held it up and showed it to Spencer.

Spencer cringed away from it.

"Please don't. I will do what you want." Spencer's fear was reflected in his desperate pleas.

"But it's not for you; it's for your lover!"

Spencer pulled and struggled against his bonds. "No! No! Leave him alone! He hasn't d-done anything! Give it t-to me!"

The Boss crossed to where Aaron was standing against the wall. He held up the syringe for him to see.

"This," he said with great satisfaction, "is really going to hurt!"

Aaron looked him straight in the eye. He didn't flinch.

The two men held Aaron's head still, and the contents of the syringe were pumped into Aaron's neck.


	6. The Punishment

Chapter 6

Punishment

The affect on Aaron was immediate. He yanked his arms towards his face, screaming in pain. His eyes were wide and tears streamed down his face. He screamed Spencer's name, reaching for him.

Spencer screamed back to him. He was useless to him. All he wanted was to hold him.

"P-please let me help him!" Spencer cried over Aaron's screams. "Please!"

Spencer pulled and fought against the cuffs holding him.

"Of course you can't help him. This is your punishment."

Aaron was on his knees now, leaning forward, retching and vomiting onto the floor. His stomach was empty, but his body continued to heave. He coughed and screamed in agony, Aaron fell to the ground, writhing in pain, unable to do anything but cry out. Suddenly his body stiffened, and Aaron convulsed, letting out groans and terrifying shrieks as his back arched and twisted.

Spencer was screaming at his captors.

"For god's sake, help him!" Spencer couldn't bear to see this happening because of his own stupidity. "I'll do what you want! Just help him! Let me help him!"

Spencer didn't want to watch what was happening to Aaron, but he couldn't turn away. It would be like a desertion. Every time Aaron cried out, Spencer's stomach clenched in fear. He could see Aaron's face was smudged with tears, and fresh blood was running down his chin where he had bitten his tongue.

Gradually the convulsion subsided, but Aaron was now hanging by his wrists. He was trying to curl up but he was seized by paroxysms of agony, and his body contorted. Again he vomited nothing, but the pain showed in his dark eyes, as his body heaved.

Spencer was crying with grief, that he should have caused this to happen to the best person he had ever known.

Aaron suddenly became still apart from the twitching of his limbs. He hung limply from the metal rings, his head forward. He was groaning and whimpering, blood running from his nose and mouth. He coughed and choked as the poison traveled to each part of his body.

"Please, let me go to him!" Spencer was begging. He couldn't take this. "Please."

The Boss walked calmly over to Spencer.

"You have five minutes."

The Boss released Spencer from the chair, and he crawled over to Aaron. He lifted him into his arms, and held him close.

"I am so s-sorry, Aaron. I am going to get you out of here." The words seemed inadequate after what had just happened. Aaron made no response, no sign that he even heard what Spencer was saying. Spencer rested Aaron's head against his neck, held him there with his fingers in his hair. Aaron's limbs still twitched, and he let out little cries. He was still in terrible pain, but he was exhausted, his body shattered by whatever the poison was that had been injected. Aaron started to heave again; Spencer put his arms around him as he threw up nothing onto the dirt floor.

Spencer looked up at the three men who were watching.

"What did you give him? How long is he going to be like this?"

"Enough now. Back in the chair." Spencer hesitated. He didn't want to leave Aaron. He was hauled to his feet by a vicious hand in his hair. Aaron was pulled from his arms and left to hang.

"Now you have two hours to collect the parcel and deliver it!" the Boss said. "And if you are not back in time, lover boy here gets a second dose."

Spencer couldn't believe that this man was smiling. He looked across at Aaron. He was still groaning in pain, and his limbs were still twitching.

Spencer looked up at the man. "Where do I go?"

"Ahh there's a good boy. I knew you'd come round eventually." the Boss patted Spencer on the head. Spencer tried not to pull away, terrified of what he would do to Aaron if he defied him.

"A different motel, this time. The Rendezvous, on the desert road. Room 6. The delivery address will be given to you on pick up."

"H-how do I get there?" Spencer looked again at Aaron. He bit his lip and tasted blood.

One of the men got a map out of the box and held it up to Spencer. He looked at it carefully. The motel was marked on the map, as was the location of the bunker. They took the map away, and replaced it in the box.

"So go. You have wasted two minutes already."

Spencer ran up the steps into the sunlight.

He didn't have time to let his eyes get used to the bright sunlight after the dingy light in the bunker. He just ran.

His tried to avoid the plants, most of them were sharp and after a little while, his feet were bleeding through his socks. The sun was beating down on his unprotected back, and he was dehydrated still. The sun was sucking moisture out of his body, but he couldn't stop.

When he reached the road, he turned left. According to the map, the pick up place was two miles along the road.

A car was approaching in the distance. He stood in the road and waved his arms.

The woman driving the car put her hand on the horn. She didn't want to stop for him, and he couldn't really blame her. He stood in the road and hoped she would have to.

She drove straight at him. He couldn't afford to be injured, not with Aaron in the hands of psychopaths, but he needed her to stop.

Too late, he realised that she wasn't going to. He dived out of the way, but his reflexes were slow. The car caught his foot as he rolled onto the verge.

He cried in pain, and held his foot.

What the hell was wrong with him? How was he going to get to the motel now? He stood up and tested his foot. He didn't know if it was broken or not, but the pain was excruciating.

He bit down on his lip and made himself walk. He could hear himself whimpering as he dragged his foot along the road.

He sat down on the verge head in his hands. This was hopeless. He had to think of something.

"I didn't mean to hit you. Are you alright?"

Spencer looked up. It was the car driver.

"I'll drive you to a hospital. I'm really sorry, but I don't stop for hitch hikers."

Spencer struggled upright. The woman looked at him.

"What happened to you?"

Spencer forced a smile. "There's a motel a couple of miles up the road." he said. "If you could just drop me there."

She opened the car door and let him get in. He noticed she made no attempt to help him.

"Thanks."

A few minutes later, she pulled into the motel grounds. As seedy motels go, this was about the seediest. Spencer got out of the car.

"Thanks again."

"Yeah. I'm sorry about the foot."

"No problem." he lied, and limped painfully over to room 6.

He waited until the car was out of sight, and knocked the door.

Spencer stood waiting for the door to open. He looked around nervously. He was about to seriously break the law, and he was scared. He waited, unsure whether to knock again. He had just decided to give it another tap, when the door opened a crack. "What do you want?"

"I've..erm…been s-sent to p-pick up a package."

The door opened a little more, and he was dragged into the motel room.

"You don't look like our usual courier." the man grinned. "Our usual one wears shoes!"

The man laughed as if he had just heard the funniest joke ever.

He pushed Spencer onto the grubby bed, bent over him and picked at a lock of his hair.

"Rather pretty, I think. But you need a wash first!" he laughed at Spencer's obvious distress. "He said he was going to send me someone nice."

The man grinned happily as he pulled Spencer off the bed, and pushed him into the bathroom.


	7. The Package

Chapter 7

The Package

_Van Helsing__ said__ 'To have memories of those you have loved and lost is perhaps harder than to have no memories at all.'_

Spencer grabbed hold of the cracked wash basin and held his injured foot off the floor. He turned to face the man who was following him into the bathroom..

"Just give me the package." He pressed his lips together worriedly. "I only have a short time. I need to go!"

The man smiled and shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you?" He crossed the room to Spencer and pulled at his belt.

Spencer pushed him away in alarm, and tried to get past him, back to the door. "Are you going to give me the package, or not?"

He was getting really scared now. He was very worried about Aaron. He had no way of checking the time, but he felt that time was running out.

"Not!" he smirked at Spencer. "Now strip. Or I'll strip you."

Spencer looked wide eyed at him. He raised his hands, palms out, and edged round the wall.

The man advanced on him. He put his face close to Spencer's. "You have made the delivery. You are the package, you moron." He held Spencer's shoulders and shook him. "Now strip!"

Spencer was horrified. He needed to get back. He needed to help Aaron. He made as if to obey, and threw himself at the man. He staggered backwards a step, but he didn't fall. Spencer didn't wait. He tried to run, but his ankle was too painful. He made for the door. If he could get outside he might be able to attract some attention.

He got as far as opening the door. The man caught his hair and yanked him into the room again.

Spencer fell heavily onto his back. He was dragged back into the bathroom. Spencer yelped and held onto the man's wrists, to take the weight off his hair.

"I have been warned not to damage the face," the man hissed. "But some damage that can't be seen will be just fine."

He dropped Spencer onto the bathroom floor and kicked him in the ribs. Spencer whimpered as he was kicked again in the stomach and groin. Spencer cried out, felt bile rising in his throat. Coughing and choking, he curled up trying to turn away.

The man stepped back and looked down at Spencer, his legs bent up trying to protect himself.

"Get up."

Spencer climbed onto his hands and knees, shaking with fear and shock. Unsteadily he stood up. He had tears in his eyes.

"Don't do that again. Now strip."

With trembling hands, Spencer fumbled with his belt and zip. He let his trousers fall to the floor. He noticed that the man was watching every move he made.

"And the rest."

Spencer turned away from him and nervously stripped.

"Ah look! He's all shy!" he said sarcastically. "A lot of out clients like that though." He grabbed Spencer's arm and shoved him in the shower. Spencer reached out to the wall to stop himself from falling, and took his weight on his good leg. He couldn't put any weight on his foot now. He thought he'd done more damage to his ankle in his rush to the door.

"Clean yourself up, you are disgusting."

With his hand tight against the tape on his neck, Spencer turned the shower on and felt the hot water beat down on his sore skin. He saw blood and dirt and other stuff wash down his legs into the shower tray, and the water cut clean lines on his skin. He tipped his head forwards and let the water run through his hair. He leaned against the wall and allowed himself to slide down into a sitting position; he carefully touched his ribs and stomach where he had been kicked. His stomach was showing bruise already.

He combed his finger through his hair, and rubbed the dirt off his body He leaned back and drank some water.

Resting his head on his knees, he shook with grief for Aaron. He was so scared that he would not get back in time to save him

"Oh Aaron, please f-forgive me…"

The water beat down on him like hot needles.

The man came back into the bathroom and hauled Spencer out of the shower. He stepped up close to Spencer and followed a droplet of water down his chest with his finger. Spencer cringed. The man smacked his mouth and pulled Spencer into the bedroom. "You clean?" He stood back and looked Spencer over.

Spencer nodded.

The man got up and pulled Spencer toward him. He held Spencer's wrists behind his back and kissed him hungrily on the mouth. Spencer tried to pull back, but when he tried, the man twisted his arm. Spencer cried out, turning his head to the side.

"Please, let me go. Aaron needs me!"

"He is the least of your worries now, freak. You had better get used to this. This is your life from now on."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The suit was sitting outside the bunker reading the financial pages. He sent the others down to check on their prisoner. He didn't particularly want him dead, but if he was, then so be it. It didn't matter one way or the other really. He looked at his watch. He should have had a call by now from Boyd if the kid had made it to the Rendezvous. If the kid had taken the chance and split, they still had the other one. But he wouldn't fetch so much money, being older.

He was surprised though that the kid had left Hotchner to him. He thought there was more loyalty in their relationship.

"He's awake, Boss."

He went down the stairs to examine Hotchner.

He was kneeling in the dirt, now muddy from blood and vomit. He was leaning forwards from the rings, head hanging down.

He lifted Aaron's head up. His eyes were closed, cheeks bruised, and blood and dirt under his nose and around his mouth and chin. His mouth was slightly open, his body still jerking and twitching.

"Your toy boy has decided you're not worth coming back for."

Aaron groaned, he tried to open his eyes. "Can't ….." He coughed violently, more blood running from his mouth.

Aaron didn't understand what was happening. He just knew that he was in terrible pain throughout his whole body. Every part of him seemed to be bathed in agony. The vomiting had burned his throat and mouth. His mouth felt hot and dry, and he was burning up. He could feel his heart pounding, and he felt a dreadful fear. He couldn't understand why Spence had left him. He cried, but his body was too dry to shed tears. He hung on the rings and moaned and sobbed and shook.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The man pushed Spencer down on his back on the dirty bed, holding his wrists. Spencer fought and kicked at him, desperate to get away. The man smacked him across the mouth.

"Keep still, vermin!"

Spencer tried to turn his body to the side, but he was held fast.

"I said, keep still!" The man punched Spence below his ribs. Spencer was winded, unable to breathe. He struggled for air, and saw spots before his eyes. As he flailed around trying to breathe, he felt the man's hands stroking his wet body, touching him.

"As I said, this is all you will know for the rest of your miserable life. You might just as well enjoy it."

He put his head down and sucked on Spencer's neck.


	8. Changes

Chapter 8

Changes

Boyd was enjoying himself. The kid squirmed and fought against him, and Boyd was getting really excited. He was going to make a packet on this one.

He raised himself up to turn Spencer over. As soon as Spencer felt the grip release, he tried to crawl up the bed. Boyd pulled him back down.

"And where do you think you are going?"

He easily turned Spencer onto his front. He pushed Spencer's face into the pillow to subdue him. Spencer writhed and squirmed, unable to breathe. When he was almost still, and his hands released the sheet they were gripping, Boyd released his head. Spencer turned his head and gulped a lungful of air, coughing and gagging.

Then the pain started.

Spencer screamed and cried and struggled, but the assault seemed to last forever. He could feel that he was bleeding, his hands gripped onto the sheet, and he bit his lip until he tasted blood.

The pain was terrible, as if his insides were being ripped apart.

In his agony he called for Aaron, screaming out his name, screaming that he was sorry.

His crying was uncontrollable; his heaving sobs just seemed to excite Boyd more.

When at last it was over, Boyd pushed Spence off the bed with his foot.

"You need another shower, you filth." Boyd said. "Go and get cleaned up. You've got some learning to do!"

Spencer crawled painfully back to the bathroom and into the shower. He reached up and turned on the water and curled up in the tray as the hot water scalded his skin and washed his tears and blood away. He wrapped his arms around himself and rocked and cried and thought of Aaron.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Boyd's phone call came just as the Suit was considering whether or not to give Aaron another dose of the nutmeg. He was holding the syringe of pale liquid up to the sunlight when his mobile rang. He checked the caller ID.

"Package arrived safely. It will need a bit of work but I think it'll be worth it."

The Suit closed his phone, and beckoned his men over.

"Ok, payment has been made. Release Hotchner, and leave. Your money will be paid in the usual way."

The Suit got in his 4x4 and drove away across the sand.

Aaron was still hanging from the rings, his body still twitching with the pain of the poison.

One of them cut the tape holding Aaron on the rings and let him fall into the dirt. The other turned out the light, and they left.

Aaron didn't move for a while, then he turned over and lay on his back in the dirt and mud. He couldn't remember where he was, or what had happened. He knew instinctively that he had to get out; he knew he had to get water. He crawled around on the floor, his limbs would not do what he wanted them to do, and he was confused and frightened, trying to find water, trying to find a way out. He wanted to cry out for help, but his mouth was dry and he couldn't speak.

He found the bottom step. He had a vague memory of falling down steps. Maybe this was the way out. He looked up, and saw a patch of light. Instinctively he crawled towards it.

He thought he remembered Spencer being here. Or had he? They had told him that Spencer had run off and left him.

Outside in the sun he wrapped his hands around his head and groaned. He needed water badly. He crawled away from the bunker into the desert. After a few yards his arms gave way, and he rolled onto his back.

He cried out as his body convulsed, his teeth bit down on his tongue and blood poured from his mouth. His back arched and he made frightened sounds through clenched teeth. His dark eyes wide and unseeing, his hands pulling at his hair.

Gradually the convulsion slowed down, Aaron collapsed weakly on the sand. He was lying on his back, arms outstretched, and his hands gripping clumps of hair. His face was smeared with fresh blood and dirt, and he could feel the heat on hisskin, burning his lips. He breathed deeply through his open mouth and he started to cough. Turning over onto his hands and knees, he coughed and vomited blood onto the sand.

The sun was high in the sky. He carried on crawling through the heat with shaky limbs.

……Spencer?

He could remember Spencer.

Spencer had been with him. He had held him. Or had he dreamed it? Why would Spencer leave him?

Aaron collapsed onto his side, his limbs shaking and jerking, he was unable to control them

He tried to call for Spencer, but his mouth wouldn't work. He cried out with his mind….

'Spence! Where are you?...I need you, Spence…….I am dying……..'

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"What is your name?"

Spencer was lying on the floor of the motel room; Boyd was standing on his hair. His feet had been taped to the bed frame, to which heavy croc clips had been attached either side of Spencer's feet. He couldn't see where the wires went, but Boyd held a switch in his hand.

"What is your name?"

"D-doctor Spencer Reid."

He screamed as the current passed through him. His back left the floor and his head flung back.

"Your name is Scott. What is your name?"

"Doc….."

Again the shock, this time sustained. When the current stopped, Spencer fell back, whimpering in pain. He was determined not to allow this man to brainwash him, to take his identity. He knew how this worked.

"Ok, let's try again. Your name is Scott. What is your name?"

"My name is Doctor Spen……"

He tried not to scream again but the sound was torn from him as his body was shocked and his muscles tightened.

"Your name is Scott. What is your name?"

"S-Spencer Reid"

The current passed through him, destroying nerves and burning flesh. Spencer flung his arms out, clutching at the ragged carpet, crying and sobbing.

"Listen to me, Scott. I can do this all night. Can you?"

Spencer looked up at his tormentor. He felt vulnerable and frightened, lying here naked in front of this man. He knew he wouldn't be able to take much more. Boyd smiled down at him.

"So, boy. Your name is Scott. What is your name?"

"I am Spencer Re……"

The shock was too much for Spencer's abused body to take.

He fainted and lay back on the floor without moving.

Boyd calmly went to the bathroom and fetched some water. He threw it onto Spencer's face.

Spencer groaned and woke up.

"It's not sleepy time yet, Scott. You have to learn your name first.

"So, what is your name?"

Spencer looked up at him with big frightened eyes.


	9. Broken

Chapter 9

Broken 

_Will Graham__ said__ "As a child, my heart bleeds for him. Someone took a boy and turned him into a monster. But as an adult... as an adult, he's irredeemable." _

Morgan looked up at the house. It looked empty and dark, but then maybe Hotch was sleeping. Morgan knew this was unlikely though. With one of the team missing, Hotch wouldn't sleep. Particularly as it was Reid……

Aaron's mobile was switched off, going straight to voicemail. Morgan didn't like it one bit.

"Come on then, Prentiss. Let's find out why it takes Hotch so long to get a change of clothes!" He tried to sound calm, but Emily heard the catch in his voice.

The mid afternoon sun was just peeping over the trees that surrounded Hotch's house. The path to his door was joyless and overhung with foreboding. Morgan felt an unfamiliar tension in his gut.

As they walked towards the front door, they could see now that there were definitely no lights on. Morgan peered through the hall window.

"Morgan," Emily called him across to the door. "Hotch's keys are still in the door." She bent closer to the door. "Ant I think this might be blood!"

Morgan was there in an instant. He looked at the blood, taking his mobile out and flicking it open. "He didn't even get as far as opening his door." He turned away as the Quantico police answered the phone.

"I'll go and speak to the neighbors." Emily ran back down the path

……………………………………………………………………………………………...

"…_.Spence…..please come back……I need you…..I don't want to die alone out here…"_

Aaron couldn't open his eyes any more. His mouth wouldn't work; his limbs were stiff and jerking uncontrollably. He could feel the gritty sand on his face, but he was grateful for that small sensation, a contact with the outside.

He tried to fill his mind with happy thoughts, of Haley and Jack, of wonderful nights with Spencer, of sweet sun filled days….but the pains that shot through his body wouldn't let him escape so easily. He cried out in his despair, but he made no sound.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Just a few yards away, a police car pulled up behind an abandoned vehicle. It was not unheard of to find abandoned cars on the desert road, but it was rare enough to make the two cops stop and check it out. Plus, they were bored.

Reams pulled his gun out and approached the car, while his partner radioed it in. Reams could see that there was no-one in the car, he holstered his gun and peered through the window. The keys were not in the ignition, but the door was unlocked. Using a handkerchief, just in case, he opened the door and shone a torch into the car. There was nothing out of the ordinary, but it just didn't feel right. He pulled the latch for the boot, and walked round the car.

"Car was reported stolen four days ago," said Colburn, getting out of the cop car. "It's local."

"Hey, Colly. Come and look at this!" Reams was shining his torch into the boot, frowning.

"Is that blood?"

"Sure looks like it." Reams answered. He backed away from the car. "I don't think we had better touch anything else." He went back to his car. "I'll call it, then we can have a scout around, see if we can find anything.

The two cops, glad of a break from driving up and down, walked into the desert. They both shone their flashlights, and Reams had his hand on his gun. He felt spooked, having watched too many nineteen fifties B movies. He looked nervously at the phone lines running parallel with the road.

"Did you ever see that film 'It Came from Outer Space'?"

"Oh was that the one with those blobs with one big eye roaming around the desert?" Colburn ginned. "Oh yes. Great stuff! I went to see that with…."

He was cut off by Reams. "Look over there!"

"Is that someone lying there?"

The two men approached cautiously. Reams drew his gun again.

The man lying at their feet was in a bad way. He was moaning, and his body was twitching. There was a lot of blood.

Colburn bent and felt for a pulse.

"I can't feel a pulse, Reams, but it's not too late, I don't think."

Reams had holstered his weapon for the second time in ten minutes. He took his radio out and called for an ambulance.

He watched as Colburn sat on the sand and started to check the man's pockets. "There's no ID, or anything." He looked at the man's face, carefully without moving him. "I would say dehydration, but it looks as though he's been beaten. He's in a bad way." He bent forward and took the man's hand. "I don't know if you can hear me. I'm a cop, and we've called for help. Just stay with us, you're going to be ok now." He touched the man's bloodied forehead, stroking gently. "Stay with us now. It's going to be ok."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

_Aaron could hear someone. Spence? Is that you? Taking my hand, touching me. Can't move, Spence. Spence, take me home. Don't leave me; please don't leave me again…_

Aaron tried to reach for the hands touching his face; his fingers trembled with the effort. He gripped hard onto the hand that was holding his.

_Spence?_...

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"What is your name?"

"S-Scott." Spencer whispered.

"What is your life?"

"This is m-my l-life"

"And your past?"

"I d-don't have a p-past."

Spencer's eyes were wide and frightened. He looked down at his feet He was beaten and broken.

He was standing in the motel room, naked with his hands flexi-cuffed in front of him. His face was tear stained and his eyes were red from crying.

"You've got work to do. Clean yourself up."

He pulled Spencer back into the bathroom and pushed him in the shower. He turned the water on and started to wash Spencer's face and body. Spencer couldn't fight Boyd, he had no energy. The night had left him confused and exhausted and his ankles hurt. He cringed at his touch as Boyd moved his hands over his body. He stood, trembling and shaking with fear and self loathing.

Boyd pulled him out of the shower and wrapped a towel around him. He rubbed his body, and hair. Spencer stood crying quietly. Boyd ripped the duct tape from his neck and replaced it with a fresh piece. He pulled him back into the bedroom and pointed to the bed.

"Get those clothes on. You are going to work."

Spencer held his hands out and Boyd cut the cuffs. Spencer picked up the clothes. White cotton chinos, soft white cotton shirt with full sleeves.

Spencer put them on and waited.

Boyd cuffed Spencer's hands again, this time with wide metal bracelets connected by chain. Boyd attached similar cuffs to Spencer's bare ankles, and chained wrists and ankles together. He held a chain attached to the cuffs, and pulled Spencer to the door. Spencer limped painfully behind Boyd. The chains allowed Spencer to take short steps, his hands hung in front of him. His head down, soft hair across his eyes, he dragged his injured ankle. Boyd opened the door and pulled Spencer to his car. Spencer got in the passenger seat, and Boyd wired his neck onto the head rest.

"You'd better hope I don't have to stop suddenly." he grinned. "You excited? First day at work?"

Spencer closed his eyes against the tears as Boyd drove into the town. He wanted to rock, but he wasn't able to move his head.

Boyd drove the car down an alley behind an apartment block. He stopped the car, and got out, crossed to the passenger's side and removed the wire restraint around Spencer's neck. He pulled Spencer out with the chain. Spencer stood swaying and shivering. He was frightened and cold; he needed Aaron.

_Aaron_……_ If Aaron was alive, if they had set him free, then this was worth it_……

Boyd jerked the chain, and Spencer followed him through a door and up some back stairs. He stumbled when Boyd pulled him too fast, his swollen ankle not able to take his full weight. The cuffs were cutting into his skin, but he hardly felt it. The fear of what was happening to him overwhelmed all other thoughts. There were no other thoughts. Except Aaron.

He could remember Aaron.

Boyd led him to an apartment door.

"Well, Scott, here we are."

The door was opened by a man of about sixty in a dressing gown. His face was red with broken veins and a drinker's complexion. He smiled nastily at Spencer, showing crooked yellow teeth.

"Hmm so this is the new boy?" He reached out and lifted Spencer's face so that he could see him properly. "What's your name, boy!"

"S-Scott" Spencer stammered.

He looked back down at his feet. The man removed his hand, and gave Boyd an envelope. "I hope this Boy is as good as you said, or I'll be wanting a refund!" he laughed. He took the chain from Boyd and pulled Spencer into the apartment, closing the door.

He looked at Spencer, and jerked the chain, pulling him to a bedroom.

"On your knees, filth!"

Spencer hesitated, the man pulled the chain hard, and Spencer fell to his knees. The man picked up a baseball bat from beside the bed. He stood in front of Spencer, and pulled his head up by his hair. The man dropped his bathrobe to the floor, and looked into Spencer's scared eyes………


	10. Working

Chapter 10

Working

Spencer choked and gagged and the man held onto his hair, pulling and ripping. Tears fell from Spencer's eyes, until he thought he would pass out. Then the man yanked Spencer's head back and pushed him away. Spencer vomited on the floor, coughing and heaving, crying with distress. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and tried to crawl away.

The man picked up the end of the chain and pulled him back. He said nothing, but dragged Spencer across the apartment into a bedroom. Spencer's wrists and ankles were bleeding where the cuffs were cutting into his flesh, and blood was soaking into the white cotton.

"On the bed."

Spencer crawled to the bed and tried to climb up. The man used the chain to pull Spencer onto the bed

Spencer was pushed onto his front. His arms ere pulled up so that they were above his head, and the cuffs were attached to the bed. The bed was already prepared for what was about to happen. The chain between Spencer's wrists and ankles was too short to allow him to lie flat. His knees were drawn up to his chest. The man got on the bed behind Spencer, and started to pull at his clothes.

Spencer rolled onto his side, exhausted and sick. His eyes closed.

"Open your eyes and look at me." he shouted at Spencer. He pulled Spencer's face towards him and hissed, "Open your god forsaken eyes and look at me."

Spencer opened his eyes,

"Now see this," he held the baseball bat where Spencer could see it. Spencer nodded his head and whimpered. "You get up or I will use it on your face."

Spencer lay still, looking up, hesitating, waiting for the assault. The man raised the bat above his head. Spencer turned onto his front again with his knees bent up

The man was kneeling on the bed behind him, fingers digging into Spencer's hips, pulling Spencer's clothes down. His head hung forward, and his tears soaked the sheet between his arms.

The pain started, Spencer whimpered and cried out and the man drew blood from the skin of Spencer's hips, his body crushing and bruising.

_This is your life from now on_

What was his old life?

Spencer tried to ignore what was happening to him, tried to think of the old life.

He tried to make the pain go away

His mind was shot.

His name. Scott. He knew his name, but other than that, nothing.

Except Aaron.

He tried to visualize Aaron. Black hair, beautiful dark eyes….he could remember his touch, his arms, feeling safe…

Part of a life that had gone. Not his life any more. He had no past.

Only this. Pain and fear and abuse and shame.

_This is your life from now on_

"Aaron…." Spencer whispered through his tears.

The pain and hurt eased as the abuse ended.

For now.

The man released the cuffs from the bed, and picked Spencer up bodily and carried him to the bathroom. He dropped him on the floor and chained him to the base of the toilet.

Spencer pulled his clothes back on, and huddled against the wall, looking at the man with eyes wide and tearful.

"H-how long do I s-stay here?" he asked quietly.

"Didn't he tell you?" the man laughed. "I've paid for a month on a trial. If you are any good, I will pay the rest, and I will own you. Like a dog. That is what you are. A dog. Filthy low life, mine to do as I wish!" He bent down and breathed in Spencer's face. "And I will."

He swung the baseball bat at Spencer. He cringed into the corner, but he couldn't get out of the way and the club hit him on the side. The man swung again and hit Spencer in the mouth. Spencer's head jerked back and he felt his front teeth crack, and his lip smashed against his teeth. Blood spurted onto his shirt and trousers, scarlet drops on the white cotton. He pressed his mouth with his hands. His cries were muffled and weak.

_(I'm not weak_…….

A tin with water in was put next to him. "Just so you know, you will be fed in the mornings, just like any other dog. Sleep. I will need you sometime during the night."

Spence picked up the tin and drank the water. He tried to wash the taste from his mouth, but he thought he might taste it forever

He curled up on the cold tiled floor, trying to be as small as he could. He could not sleep. He tried to concentrate on the one thing that connected him to a past.

Something better.

Aaron.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Colburn rode in the ambulance, Reams followed in the car.

John Doe. They had no ID, and he wasn't able to speak. The paramedics had set up saline to rehydrate, and, because his blood sugar was so low, glucose. His limbs were not still, and they were guessing that he had been poisoned. But without blood tests, they couldn't tell by what.

John Doe was delirious, crying out and trying to get off the stretcher. He was crying out in pain each time his muscles tightened, and he was given a shot of pain killing drug. But without knowing what was in his system they had to be careful what they gave him.

He was quitening down as they drove into the hospital, and took him through into the emergency room.

Colburn and Reams sat outside. There really wasn't anything else they could do. They would need to talk to him about the car. And the man was alone. Colburn in particular wanted to reassure him that he would not be left with no one.

The doctor came over to them.

"We don't know what he has taken, or been poisoned with. We think there is an injection site ion his neck. We are going to treat him with an antispasmodic drugs to loosen his limbs, and pain killers, and we will keep a watch on him." the doctor explained. "You won't be able to talk to him tonight. He is delirious, and hallucinating, we think. Call tomorrow and we will let you know how he is."

"Can I just go in and tell him we're coming back?" Colburn asked. "On the way over, he almost crushed my hand. I think he was glad I was there."

The doctor nodded, and led Colburn into the resus suite. Colburn took John Doe's hand.

"We will come back tomorrow, you rest now."

His eyes opened wide and stared at Colburn.

"Spencer…..need Spence…" he croaked. His mouth and throat were so dry, his voice was barely audible.

"You want Spencer?" Colburn wrote the name down. "Look, I have to go now, I will be back though."

He tried toleave, John Doe's hand would not let go. Colburn had to pry the man's hand open. He felt very guilty as he walked away.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The conference room looked empty, with two of their team missing. Morgan, JJ and Prentiss. He rubbed his hand over his head. He had often thought of what it would be like to lead the team, but not like this. Never like this.

"We need to get their pictures in the press. Someone must have seen something. JJ, can you sort that out?" JJ nodded, and went to the file to choose the best pictures.

"I'll organise a press conference in an hour." She hurried off to make the calls.

What did they have?

Nothing had come from the house to house. The blood in Reid's car was all his. The hair was his. The blood on Hotch's door was Hotch's. No surprises. But there were absolutely no leads. They had height and build of the UnSub who took Reid, and that was it.

Garcia knocked on the door and came in. "I need to be doing something. What can I do?"

She had been crying.

Morgan knew how she felt about Reid, and although he was surprised, he understood.

"Come and sit down, Princess. You were with Reid the night before he disappeared; tell me everything you remember about him. Did he seem normal?" He smiled ever so briefly. "Normal for Reid, that is."

Garcia had talked this over several times over the last few days. Apart from him being a little tense, which could be nothing, there was no change in the young profiler's behavior.

She put her hands to her face. Since she had spent more time with Spence, her life was non stop fear and worry.

"I don't think I can take this." she sobbed. She put her hands to her face and cried. Morgan put his arm around her.

"Nor do I, Baby Girl. Nor do I."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next day as people sat down to breakfast, most didn't look twice at the pictures of the missing Feds on the front page.

But one woman did. She was sure she recognized one of them.

The younger one. It was true, he hadn't looked like the picture when she saw him, sitting on the grass verge, covered in blood and dirt, and tear stained face. But she was almost positive.

She folded the paper with the picture outermost, and, still reading the article, she picked up her phone.


	11. New Life

Chapter 11

New Life

It was a two hour drive from Quantico to Audrey Mannix's home. Prentiss drove, and Morgan sat up front beside her. JJ stayed behind fielding 'phone calls. Garcia didn't want to come.

Morgan could hardly blame her. Since hooking up with Reid her life had been a constant stream of worry.

"He is either missing, or recovering. There's no peace, Derek." She had spent the entire night before sitting with Morgan in the lounge, trying to get her thoughts into words. Her last words to Morgan as he left with Prentiss were, "Just bring him home."

The woman who answered the door was in her twenties, blonde cropped hair, and no make up. Emily was doing the talking.

Audrey led them through to a small cluttered living room, and offered them a drink. Prentiss declined. She and Morgan just wanted to find out what she knew.

"I was driving home along the desert road, there was this guy standing in the middle of the road, wanting me to stop." She looked guiltily at Emily. "I didn't want to. I wish I had now."

"But you did stop, Miss Mannix."

"Well yes, I did in the end. You see, he didn't get out of the way in time. I hit him with my car."

Emily didn't react, but she felt Morgan register shock.

"You hit him?" Derek didn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"Yes. I felt so bad. I watched in my mirror. He got up, and walked a few steps. I thought he was ok, but then he kind of collapsed on the verge." She had tears in her eyes. "I felt terrible. I turned round and went back. I asked if I could take him to the ER but he said no, and asked if I could drop him at a motel just up the road. So I did." She wiped her eyes. "I had no idea he was FBI. I am so sorry."

Emily leaned forward and took her hand. "Well, you did the right thing, calling us. Now can you take us to the motel please?"

Audrey got up and reached for her jacket. "Sure."

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Spencer spent a miserable night. He was cold and in pain. His thin cotton clothes were torn and damp and bloodstained, and the chains prevented him from moving too much.

He curled up to conserve any body heat, and shivered.

And thought of Aaron.

He tried to bring back images of him. Flashes of memory, smiling and happy, gentle and loving.

He wasn't sure that the memories were real, or just creations of his mind. He couldn't remember ever being happy, or laughing. Just this abuse and pain.

That's all he had.

No past, no future.

Just now. Lying here, alone and hurting.

He could hear noises in the darkness. Unfamiliar and frightening. He crouched behind the toilet, trying to hide himself from his own mind. Whimpering and sobbing, he waited for the next round of beating and pain.

When it came, Spencer wasn't sure he would live through it.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

John Doe was waking up after a rough night. The nurse stood by his bed as he opened his eyes.

He was surprised to feel warm and comfortable. The last thing he could remember was being cold and in a lot of pain.

And Spencer.

"Can you tell me where I am?" His mouth was working, although his voice was still croaky.

The nurse smiled at him. "You are in hospital. You were found near the desert road yesterday evening. Can you tell me who you are?"

I'm Aaron Hotchner, I'm with the FBI."

"Just, a minute, Aaron. I need to show you something."

The nurse ran from the ward and returned with a newspaper. She gave it to Aaron.

"Is that you?" she asked, as Aaron stared at the front page,

"Please," he said. "I need a phone."

He called Garcia, and then he called a taxi.

"You can't leave; you still have toxins in your blood." The nurse tried to restrain him, but Aaron's dark look made her step away.

"I have to go. This is very urgent." He realised he had startled her, and he gave her a warm smile. "I'll sign a release form. Anything. Just please get my clothes."

"I am very sorry, Aaron. They are torn and dirty. You can't possibly wear……"

Aaron interrupted her. "It doesn't matter what they look like, I need them now."

She smiled, lips pressed in a reigned fashion. "Ok, I'll get them, and a discharge form."

Aaron pulled himself into a sitting position on the bed. He had insisted on leaving, he wasn't even sure that he could sit. He checked himself out. The back of his head had been shaved, and he could feel stitches. He had something metal taped to his nose, and stitches in a cut on his cheek.

Not too bad, so why did he feel so sick, and his arms and legs so shaky.

The nurse came back in with a bag of clothes, and a form. She removed the drips from his arms, and Aaron signed the form.

"When you came in, we thought you had taken something. We found a needle mark on your neck but we couldn't find what poison it was."

"I was injected against my will."

"That's the conclusion we came to. But you were seizing, and the drip I have just removed stopped them. You may still have a seizure, so be aware.You really shouldn't go."

Aaron got off the bed and stood unsteadily, holding on the bed for support while he got his balance.

The nurse stood watching him. "I would really recommend you stay." she said.

"I understand, but I have to leave."

She still didn't move. Aaron held up the bag of clothes. "Please?"

"Oh yes, sorry. Let me know when you are ready, I'll take you down to the taxi. Can you remember your address?"

Aaron nodded to her, although he had no intention of going home.

When he was ready, she took him down in the lift, and led him to the car park, where the taxi was waiting.

As soon as the Nurse had gone, Aaron leaned forward to the driver

"Rendezvous Motel, please."

As the taxi drove off, Prentiss was about an hours drive from Audrey Mannix's house.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Boyd had spent a last night in the motel room. He had pulled the dirty sheets off the bed, and replaced them with fresh ones that he had demanded from reception. He had slept well, after a bad night the night before. It had taken longer than usual to break the boy in, but once he had the name, the rest was easy. He had had to waken him four times (or was it five? –A lot anyway) before he finally broke. The pathetic weakling kept fainting. Still, a good night's work, and a nice wad of cash.

He got up and showered. He thought back to the boy. Yes, he was one of the better ones. Shame he sold him to Goff. The last kid only lasted a week before he died. Goff could be a bit OTT with the violence. But then, what was that to Boyd? Goff always paid, and the quicker he got through them, the more money for him.

Still, it was a shame….

Someone was knocking on the door.

Reception, probably. He'd not paid for the room. Damn it. He had no intention of paying for this hovel.

He pulled a stiff grey towel around him and opened the door

It wasn't reception. He stepped back and turned to run. The man who kicked the door open wasn't carrying. But he looked as if he could kill him anyway.

He grabbed Boyd, swung him round and pushed him hard against the wall.

"Where. Is. He?"

The man had his forearm pressed against Boyd's neck.

"I'm s-sorry, he's gone. But I can get you another, no problem!"

Aaron hit him.

"Where have you taken him? You had better be quick, I don't feel very well, and I have not got a lot of patience!"

"I can't remember. The address is in my book in my coat."

Aaron turned him round, and with his arm up his back, took him to where his coat was on a hook by the door.

"Find it!" Aaron spoke in low menacing tones.

Boyd took a note book out of the pocket, and held it up. Aaron took it from him.

As he opened the book, his arms started to shake again, his head exploded in pain. It took a second for him to get control again, but in that second, Boyd took a gun from his coat. He barely got it level when Aaron was on him. Boyd pressed the trigger, and a bullet tore through Aaron's shoulder and hit the wall behind him. Aaron hardly flinched. This was for Spencer.

He wrestled Boyd to the floor, and much as he wanted to shoot the creep between the eyes, he hit him on the temple with the gun, knocking him out, and dragged him over to the bed.

Aaron tied him to the bed frame.

He saw the wires and croc clips under the bed as he restrained Boyd, and felt sick.

Oh Spencer. My Spence. What did he do to you?

He put Boyd's gun in his pocket, and made a make-shift bandage out of the cleanish sheets from the bed. He wasn't worried about the GSW, he had had worse.

He looked in the note book at the last entry.

Spencer Reid

Scott.

And an address.

In an unaccustomed show of anger, he kicked the unconscious Boyd as he lay on the floor, retrieved Boyd's car keys, and left.


	12. The Finshing

Chapter 12

The Finishing

_Alex__ Delarge said, "__Suddenly, I viddied what I had to do, and what I had wanted to do, and that was to do myself in; to snuff it, to blast off for ever out of this wicked, cruel world. One moment of pain perhaps and, then, sleep for ever, and ever and ever."_

Spencer couldn't move. He had been beaten and raped and he was still bleeding. He could hear his owner and his friends laughing and drinking in the next room. They had given him his clothes back, but he was in too much pain to put them on. He could see smears of his blood across the floor where he had been dragged back to his place in the bathroom. Lying here on his side in a pool of congealing blood, his breaths coming in harsh bubbly sobs, he tried to bring back the images of the one he remembered as Aaron. The pictures were fading now, the face a blur. He could no longer feel any comforting arms, no feeling of safety. Alone now, abused and wretched.

There was nothing, nowhere to hide. Just this for the rest of his life.

He knew he was to die in the hands of his owner. He knew it would be soon.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Morgan was driving now. He pulled up in front of the motel, and got out. Audrey got out of her car.

"That was the door he went to." said Audrey. She looked so worried.

Prentiss said, "You drive home now, Miss Mannix. And thank you for your help."  
"You will let me know if he is ok, won't you?"

"Yes, if we can, we will."

They watched as Audrey drove away, and then approached room 6.

"FBI!" Morgan yelled as he kicked the door in. The door splintered and Morgan and Prentiss entered the room, guns drawn.

The occupant of the room was lying next to the bed, tied haphazardly to the bed frame.

Morgan knelt and checked his pulse.

"He's fine, he's been hit, looks like with a gun but."

Morgan started to wake him. Prentiss checked the rest of the 'suite'

"Morgan, come and see this!"

Prentiss was looking through some clothes on the floor of the bathroom.

"Do you think these are Reid's?"

Morgan bent down and picked up the socks, torn and bloody. They still had thorns caught in the fabric. "They're Reid's." He said. Morgan threw them down and went back to the guy on the bedroom floor.

Morgan pulled him up off the floor as far as the restraints would allow.

Boyd thought it best to wake up.

"Where is he?"

"The other guy took the book with the list."

Morgan shook him until Boyd thought his head would come off.

"What other guy?"

Prentiss stood ready to calm Morgan down if she thought it necessary. It wasn't necessary yet.

"How the bleedin' hell do I know? He didn't leave a name or forwarding address!"

Morgan could feel his temper rising. He pulled Boyd harder. Boyd yelped as the restraints dug into his skin

"He wanted the k-kid." he stammered. "I told him he was gone and I'd get him another, but he only wanted Scott!"

"Who the hell is Scott?"

"I forgot his other name. It was in the book, but the other guy took it!" Boyd was squeaking now, really scared.

Morgan threw Boyd back down. His fists were clenched; he so wanted to hit the guy.

"Where is Reid? We know he was here; his clothes are in the bathroom."

"I don't know." whimpered Boyd. "The other guy took the list."

Morgan hit him on the nose as hard as he could.

Prentiss didn't move.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Spencer was bleeding heavily, but he didn't care.

He wanted to die; he just wanted it to come quicker.

He groaned as he turned around. On the basin was a china cup.

If he could just reach it…….

The floor was slippery with his blood, and it was difficult to move. Blood loss had made him dizzy, and every part of his body was hurting from the last beating.

He slid as far across the floor as he could towards the basin, but he couldn't reach. He thought his arm could be broken again. It was twisted at the elbow, and stretching up to the cup was agony.

He had to find another way.

He looked around the floor where he was chained, to see if there was anything he could use, but his owner had been careful not to leave anything.

He picked up the leading chain.

Yes. This could work.

Again, he slid across in his blood as far as he could. He held the chain about two feet from the end and swung it towards the cup on the basin.

The chain missed, and the pain was too bad for him to try again just yet. He rested his head on his hands for a moment to recover.

Then he tried again. As carefully as he could, he swung the chain at the cup.

The chain hit the cup and it fell onto the tiled floor and smashed.

The sound of the cup smashing reverberated through Spencer's head.

He froze, terrified that his owner had heard. But there was no change in the sounds coming from the next room.

He hoped they wouldn't come back for him yet.

He wanted to die in his time, not theirs.

He picked up a piece of china and slid back to his place next to the toilet.

The irony of dying here chained to a toilet wasn't lost to him. It seemed appropriate somehow, that someone as disgusting and loathsome as he was would die here.

He needed to wait a bit before he did anything else. Just lifting the piece of china was too much for him. A few minutes of careful breathing, and he would be ready.

He reached out and pulled his trousers towards him. They were almost completely red with blood, but he wanted at least a little dignity in death. He didn't bother with the shirt.

It was not difficult to put the trousers on. His legs were bloody and they slid on easily. It took a while to do up the zip and button because his hands felt floaty, and they wouldn't obey him.

When he was dressed, he lay on his side, breathing heavily.

Now he was ready. He just needed the energy to do it.

His heart beat a little faster at the thought. He was making a decision for himself here. He was making a choice.

It was frightening and exciting and new.

He turned with his back against the wall, knees bent up. He rested his right hand wrist up on his knee. He looked at the beautiful shard of china. The light caught the glazed edge and Spencer was momentarily mesmerized by it.

He held it in his left hand, and dug it into his right wrist, and pulled the china shard through his dying flesh.

He didn't feel it.

His skin was whiter than usual.

Strange.

He hadn't noticed.

He watched in awe as blood sprayed out across the bathroom.

He had no idea it would go that far.

He smiled as it ran down the tiles in little streams, scarlet against the shining white tiles.

He put the china shard into his right hand, and lay it across his perfect white skin.


	13. Finding and Dying

Chapter 13

Finding and Dying

Aaron stood in the motel car park feeling very ill. His gunshot wound was bleeding into the bandage, and the drugs he was being given in hospital had worn off. The affect of the poison was ripping into him. He leaned on the car, pressing his hands to his head, trying to ease the terrible pain. His eyes were watering and his hands were shaking, whether a reaction to the poison, or the pain, he didn't know. He did know however, that if he was going to drive he would have to be very careful. If he was stopped, it would not be easy to persuade the police that he was FBI in the state he was in. And when they had made the phone calls to confirm that he was, it could be too late for Spence.

He unlocked the door and slid into the seat, and turned the key in the ignition. He didn't know where the address in the book was, but Boyd had very kindly provided directions in his little book. He looked again at the page.

Spencer Reid…….Scott

They had changed his name. Aaron knew how brain washing worked, and he had seen the evidence in the motel room. He thought of Spencer going through the agonies of electrocution.

He had to find him. Before it was too late.

If it wasn't too late already.

Aaron put the car into gear and carefully drove out of the muddy car park.

Fifteen minutes later, Morgan pulled up in the same place.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Just outside town, Aaron stopped the car. The pain in his head had become unbearable. He opened the car door and fell into the road. Lights were flashing before his eyes, and he knew he was going to be sick. He crawled to the verge and vomited. His limbs seemed to have minds of their own, jerking in spasms, and Aaron was finding it difficult to control his movements. He rolled onto his back on the grass, and waited for the attack to pass. His muscles felt as if they were on fire, shooting pains along his limbs, making him cry out.

When at last the attack eased, Aaron crawled back to the car, and drove on.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

In the back alley behind the apartment block, Aaron looked for the number that was in the book. He parked the car as close to the back door as he could, and got out. He saw blood smears on the ground, with bare footprints. There was a bloody hand print on the door frame.

He pushed the door open.

A flight of stairs to the right.

Again, blood was smeared on the steps. Three steps up, there was more blood, as if someone had stumbled. Bare footprints going up, and the prints of shoes coming down.

Aaron held the gun ready, and climbed the stairs.

_I'm coming, Spence. Please hold on just a little bit longer. I'm coming for you_…..

At the top of the stairs, there were three doors. None of them were marked or numbered. He checked each one in turn. At the third door, he saw the footprints again, clearly marked in blood. There was more blood here, as if the person had been standing still for a while.

Yes this was the door.

Was Spencer the other side?

Aaron didn't have the strength to kick the door. He opened it slightly, then crashed it open and ran into the room, gun held high.

There were three men in the room, each in various states of undress. They looked startled at the sudden interruption. Then one of them, a large red faced man of about sixty, stood up.

"And who the hell are you?"

"Where is my Agent?" Aaron growled. He could not see Spencer in the room, but he saw bloodstains and more bloody footprints.

"Where is he?"

Aaron took a step towards the big man and raised the gun to point directly between his eyes. The man stepped back.

"Agent?" He looked scared. "We don't know anything about any agent!" He turned to his two friends who were quickly getting themselves dressed. "Right lads?"

The other two nodded quickly.

Aaron heard a sound coming from behind a door. The big man reacted to it before he could stop himself. Aaron moved round the room towards the door, his gun never wavering.

Then the pain hit.

Aaron cried out, dropping the gun to the floor. He held his head, anything to somehow relieve the agony.

Then he fell hard onto the floor. His back arching and twisting, Aaron lost control, and he convulsed. The paroxysms tore at his body, his arms and legs jerking uncontrollably.

The three men couldn't believe what they were seeing. Goff recovered first. He picked up the gun.

"We gotta get out of here now!" He looked at Aaron, writhing on the floor, blood running from his mouth and down his chin, his face contorted in agony. "We'll lock this one in the bathroom with the boy. We can come back for them later, but for now, we gotta get out."

"I'll get all the stuff together." One of the other guys started to gather the porn mags into a pile and put them in a carrier bag.

Aaron was whimpering on the floor, finding it hard to catch his breath, all the muscles in his body contracting, the pain shining in his wide dark eyes. Goff pointed Boyd's gun at Aaron, unsure whether or not to just kill him.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd killed an unarmed man.

He shot Aaron in the chest.

"Help me get this one into the bathroom!"

Two of them dragged Aaron to the bathroom. Goff pulled the door open and pushed Aaron through.

He closed the door and wedged a chair against it.

"Now, out."

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Spencer didn't move when the door opened. He didn't see Aaron get pushed through, or notice the door close again.

Aaron put his hand against the hole in his chest. There was no exit wound. He pressed hard to stop the bleeding, and looked round the room.

_Spencer!_

_Oh Spence….._

Spencer was still leaning against the wall. His right wrist was cut, blood, pulsing from the wound.

A piece of broken china was sticking in his left wrist.

Spence was sitting in blood, his hands loose on his lap.

His beautiful eyes open and staring.

Aaron saw that he was chained.

_Oh god, Spence……_

Aaron dragged himself over to him.

_Please, Spence, don't let it be too late……._

Aaron pulled Spencer onto his lap, and held him close. His body was cold, but Aaron could feel Spencer's heart beating.

Aaron pulled a towel from the edge of the bath, and tore some strips off. He tied it tightly around Spencer's cut wrist.

Aaron brushed Spencer's hair back with a trembling hand, and stroked his face.

"Please, Spence, please don't die. Please stay with me, Spence."

Aaron was feeling light headed. The chest GSW was hurting him now the adrenalin was wearing off. His headache was blurring his vision.

But he had found Spencer. He was with him again.

That was all that mattered.

Aaron held Spencer's limp broken body to his chest and kissed his hair

"I love you, Spence. Please don't die."


	14. Love and Pain

Chapter 14

Love and Pain 

Morgan cut Boyd's restraints that Aaron had tied and he pulled him to his feet. Boyd was a coward, he cringed away from Morgan.

"Get up, creep." Morgan hissed. Boyd leaned away from Morgan, dabbing his nose with the back of his hand.

"You are going to show us where you took Reid." Morgan started to pull Boyd to the door.

"B-but I can't remember!" he sniveled. "Anyway, what's all the sudden interest in Scott? Yeah he was cute, but there are plenty more cute boys out there!"

Morgan pulled Boyd so that their noses were almost touching. Morgan was shaking with the effort of not throwing this horrible little man through the wall.

"Reid is a Federal Agent! FBI! "

Boyd's eyes widened in shock. "You're kidding! You are kidding, right? A Fed?"

"Do I look as if I'm kidding?" roared Morgan. Even Emily flinched "So that tiny brain of yours had better get remembering, creep, because you are in big trouble, and if Reid dies, just remember, they have the death penalty here."

Boyd looked genuinely frightened now. "I'll t-try."

Emily snapped cuffs on him and took him outside to their car. Boyd looked around.

"Hey! That other guy took my car!"

Morgan widened his eyes at Boyd, who shut up.

"Just get in." said Emily quietly, threateningly. "You'd better start praying to whatever low life god listens to you, Boyd, that Reid's ok."

Boyd slid into the back seat, Morgan beside him. Boyd cowered in the corner of the back seat as far away from Morgan as he could get. Morgan derived some satisfaction from knowing that the man was terrified of him.

Emily drove towards the town.

Boyd thought of Goff. Scott could very well be dead by now. It was very likely. Goff was a vicious nasty piece of work. Boyd was scared.

"I'm co-operating, right? You will remember that I am co-operating. I'm doing my best. I'll……."

"Shut your filthy mouth!" Morgan held up a fist in front of Boyd's face. "Yes, I will remember. I will remember that you held a federal Agent against his will, tortured him and sold him."

Boyd looked at Morgan fearfully, as Emily drove into town.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Open your eyes, Babe." Aaron whispered softly to Spencer, still holding him as if he would never let him go. "It's me, Spence. It's Aaron. Please, open your eyes for me."

Aaron was very sick, his vision was hazy, and he thought his head would explode, but he was holding Spence in his arms, and the feelings he had for Spencer overwrote any thoughts he had for himself. Aaron nuzzled his face in Spencer's soft hair, gently kissing his neck.

Aaron's breathing was erratic. The gun shot to the chest was making breathing difficult. He couldn't breath in properly. He thought he was probably bleeding around his lungs.

"I love you, Spence. Please, open your eyes." Aaron was crying.

_Please don't let it be too late!_

Spencer could hear a voice far away. The voice was familiar, as was the warm feeling of the arms around him, the softness of the touch of his hair. But the voice wasn't calling him. His broken mind tried to make sense of what was happening.

The voice was asking him to open his eyes. He tried, his eyelashes softly moving against white skin.

"Please, Babe, open your eyes."

Spencer opened them and looked into Aaron's frightened face. The dark gentle eyes, strong and safe.

Spencer tried to lift his hands to Aaron. Aaron took Spencer's hands and held them against his face.

His cut and broken lips moved, formed the word, "Aaron?"

There was no sound, but Aaron understood.

"Yes, Babe, it's me."

He wrapped his arms around Spencer's injured body, gently holding him, making him feel safe, loving him. He spoke words of love softly to him, pressing his face in Spencer's hair, trying to keep him alive.

"Stay with me, Sweet Spence. You will be safe now……."

Aaron moved against the wall, and allowed his head to rest on Spencer's. He thought it likely that they would both die here. No one knew where they were, but Aaron was happy. His last moments were with Spencer, and neither of them were having to die alone. He closed his eyes, breathing the special scent of Spencer's skin, holding his dying body close.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Hey! That's my car!"

Boyd was pointing up a back alley behind a seedy apartment block. "I think this might be where I brought him!"

Morgan was always amazed how bolshy low life crooks got all co-operative when threatened with a lethal injection.

Emily drove the car into the alley and stopped next to Boyd's car. Morgan undid one of Boyd's cuffs, and clipped it to the door pillar.

"Which door?"

Before he could answer, three men pushed their way through on of the doors on their left.

"That's them " said Boyd, ducking out of sight behind Morgan's seat. Morgan and Emily were out of the car in a flash.

"FBI! Freeze!"

Two of them stopped and turned, hands held high. Goff made a run for it.

"Freeze, or I shoot!"

Goff turned.

"I swear! I didn't know!"

"Didn't know what?" said Emily. She led Goff over to the car and cuffed Goff to a very scared Boyd.

"I didn't know he was FBI. He didn't look like a Fed. Neither of them did. He just came crashing in, waving a gun about; I thought he was on something." Goff was gabbling "I didn't know. He didn't show any ID. I had to do it. I thought he was going to kill us!"

Morgan pulled the other two over. He cuffed them to each other, then to Goff.

Morgan waggled a finger at them. "Don't go away!"

Emily removed the car keys, and she and Morgan went to the door.

They saw the same footprints that Aaron had seen. Bare feet in the blood on the floor, a hand print on the door frame, as if someone had stood and steadied himself against it.

The prints continued up the stairs to their right. Morgan and Emily carefully ascended the stairs, taking care not to step in the blood. They both had their guns drawn, moving silently towards the top of the stairs. They both had to resist the urge to run, but Goff had said there were no other people upstairs; they had absolutely no reason to believe him.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Three doors. Two closed, the third one open. Emily and Morgan both noted the blood on the threshold. Morgan kicked the door wide, bouncing it off the wall.

"Clear!"

Emily checked the bedroom.

"Clear!"

Then the bathroom. Morgan pulled the chair away and opened the door.

"Oh my god!"


	15. Crying

Chapter 15

Crying

The bathroom looked like a slaughter house. There was blood on the walls, on the ceiling, on the floor.

Especially on the floor.

Hotch and Reid were huddled together in the corner, Hotch clinging onto Reid, whose body lay limply in his arms.

So much blood.

Morgan gently pulled Hotch away from Reid. Aaron resisted.

"It's ok, Hotch. It's Morgan." Aaron did not appear to be fully conscious. Morgan lifted Aaron into his arms and carried him through into the next room. Very carefully he laid him on the sofa. Then he returned to the bathroom for Spencer.

Emily was on the phone to the paramedics. She knelt next to Aaron.

"Two GSW, one to chest, one through and through to shoulder." she said into the phone,

Morgan bent down to Reid. He tried to find a pulse, but he couldn't. He saw that he was chained up, and tears pressed out of his eyes.

"Oh Reid! What have they done to you?"

He saw the towel wrapped around his right wrist, and the shard in his left. He pulled Spencer's unresponsive body to his chest, much as Aaron had been holding him.

"Emily!" Prentiss came to the door. "Emily, we need bolt cutters. They've chained him up."

"Is….Is he alive?"

"I don't know." Morgan was crying now. "I think they might have killed him. I think we're too late."

Morgan wrapped the towel around Spencer's hips. The Kid was still bleeding, Morgan took this as a sign that maybe they weren't too late, and that he could still be alive.

"Stay with me, Genius Boy. Stay with me." He stroked Spencer's face and hair. "It's Morgan. No one will hurt you now."

Morgan's tears were flowing fast. He couldn't speak anymore. He held Spencer close, and instinctively rocked him in his arms.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

A paramedic came in with bolt cutters, and cut the chains holding Spencer. His limbs fell apart. The cut chains hung from Spencer's wrists and ankles as Morgan carried him out of the bathroom.

Very gently, he laid Reid on the floor. The paramedics knelt next to him.

"Is he…is he alive?"

"Yes. Just. But he won't be for long, unless we get him to hospital. He needs fluids. His blood pressure is really low." She was struggling to insert an IV, but she couldn't find a vein. The wide cuffs on his wrists stopped her from inserting it there, his left elbow was broken. She cut along the leg of his blood soaked trousers and found a vein behind his knee. She stood up, holding the IV bag high.

"Ok, get him out of here."

Aaron and Spencer were taken down the stairs to the waiting ambulance.

Emily and Morgan followed. Morgan called the PD to deal with the line of UnSubs, still cuffed to Boyd's car. Then he hit speed dial.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Garcia had not moved more then three feet from her phone since Morgan and Emily had left. Now she saw it was Morgan calling, she was afraid to answer it.

She watched it vibrate on the desk as if it was going to bite her. Suddenly she snatched it up.

"Yes….?"

Garcia, Princess, we've got him." He heard Garcia breathe in. He knew she would be afraid to ask, so he went ahead and told her. "He's in a bad way, Baby Girl. He might not make it."

Garcia started to cry. "I don't know what to do, Derek. I can't just switch off my feelings, but I can't…..I can't……I'm going to have to call you back."

She closed her phone, and put her head down on folded arms.

"Garcia?" JJ stood behind her. She knew about Garcia's feelings for Spence, how they had been seeing each other. She also knew that the relationship was destructive, at least to Garcia.

JJ put her hand on Garcia's shoulder, and sat down next to her. Garcia lifted her head and looked at her, saw that she was crying too.

"How am I going to tell him?"

JJ held out her arms, and Garcia held onto her friend, crying on her.

"I can't bear the thought of hurting him. I really love him. But I have got to end it." she sobbed. "This relationship is destroying me."

She pulled away, and wiped her eyes. "I want to go to him, but I can't! JJ, what shall I do? Please, tell me what to do!"

"I can't, Sweetheart. I can't tell you." J squeezed Garcia's hands. "But whatever you decide, I will support you all the way. I'll be here for you, Pen."

Garcia broke down in sobs again, and the two women clung to each other.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

The doctor was talking to Morgan and Prentiss.

"….Mr. Hotchner discharged himself. We didn't expect to have him back so soon. Now with bullet wounds! But neither is life threatening, now we have stopped the bleeding." He paused, looking very worried. "Doctor Reid, on the other hand is in a bad way. Are you aware of what has happened to him?"

Morgan glanced at Emily. She moved away.

"I think so."

The doctor spoke in low tones. "It seems that your friend has been raped by more than one person. And he has been beaten with an object like a pipe or baseball bat. We can fix the bones, stop the bleeding and stitch up the wounds. But the psychological trauma we cannot fix." He put his hand on Morgan's arm. "He is going to need his friends."

"He's got them, doctor."

The doctor left, and Emily came back and sat down. She didn't ask. She had already guessed what had happened. She knew Morgan was protecting Reid's dignity. She didn't have to know.

Morgan looked around him. A different city, a different waiting room, different doctors and nurses, but everything was still the same. He sat and rested his head in his hands. How many more times was this going to happen before they finally lost one or both of them. He could totally understand how Garcia felt, but he wasn't sure she would be able to just switch off her feelings and forget how she loved him..

And he was afraid of what it would do to an already fragile Reid.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

They couldn't put Spencer and Aaron in the same ward this time. Spence was in orthopedics and Aaron in medical. Aaron was still having seizures, and although the unknown toxin in his blood was now at a low level, the doctor was unwilling to move him before it was gone from his system altogether. The gun shot wounds were stitched and healing, and they allowed him to visit Spencer on the second day.

He spent several hours holding his hand and talking to him. Spencer faced the other way, and didn't speak. When it was time to leave, Aaron kissed him.

"I have to go now, Spence. I'll come back tomorrow." He stroked Spence's hair. "Love you, Spence. We'll get through this, together."

_I love you too, Aaron._

A single tear rolled down Spencer's cheek onto the pillow.

_Never leave me_………..

………………………………………………………………………………………………

**END**

**A/N There will be a sequel.**

**Thank you to all my lovely reviewers, without whom I couldn't do this**

**8¬)**

_**George Sand wrote "**__**The trade of authorship is a violent and **__**indestructible**__** obsession.**__**" (LOL)**_


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